Johnny, I hardly knew ya
by MckCouGill
Summary: Carla's thoughts on the newest man to break her and let her down.


_I just want Johnny to feel one ounce of the pain that I have spent my whole life drinking to forget. That's what I want._

 _..._

Johnny.

It's really not just about simply wanting you to feel the pain.

No, I need you to feel the pain I've spent my whole life drinking to forget. I need you to feel it and to suffer like I have.

I need you to feel the pain of five year old me, sat in the rain outside the pub. Cold and hungry and all too aware that my mummy didn't love me. Holding her hand when she eventually stumbled outside, only for her to snatch it away to heave in the gutter.

I need you to feel the pain of seven year old me, accidentally knocking over a bottle of whiskey. My mother angrily slapping me around the face. The taste of blood in my mouth. Rob, stood wide eyed in the background. Looking at my own reflection in the mirror above the fireplace- a face marred with blood, snot and tears. Despising myself.

I need you to feel the pain of eleven year old me. The taunts and the jeers of the other kids in class. Laughing at my second hand clothes. The way I looked. The way I smelled. They thought I was thick. I was a tramp. I disgusted them. I disgusted myself. It hurt, Johnny.

It really, really hurt.

I need you to feel the pain of sixteen year old me. Finding out that my kid brother had stolen my hard earned money. The dream of finally owning something new, something that would make me fit in. Snatched away by the brother that I adored, who I'd spent my whole life protecting. The moment of realisation that for the rest of my life, everybody would hurt me eventually.

Where were you Johnny?

Where were you when I was being raped? When that man forced himself on me and nearly destroyed me. When I hated myself with an indescribable loathing.

You were there Johnny. You stood on the sidelines and let my whole life happen. You allowed my life to unravel from the minute I came kicking and screaming into this world, and you never once intervened. The Connors are a tight-knit family, I know Michelle talked to you. Did you never ask? Were you never once interested in the kid you denied?

I suppose it would have suited you, if I'd died. Twice I've tried to end my own life, you know. If only I'd succeeded. Your guilty secret would have died too. It need never have come out. If only I had done the decent thing and killed myself. I would have saved you a whole heap of bother wouldn't I?

I do remember that holiday in Derbyshire. I haven't forgotten. It's just not a memory I look back on fondly. I don't look back at all if I can help it. The second day of the holiday, I lost one of my front teeth. Courtesy of Mum's fist, of course. She told you all I'd done it falling out of the bunk. Clumsy Carla, who spent most of her life falling down stairs, into doors, out of bed.

How could nobody see? How could you not see? Or did you simply not want to?

I remember you sitting me on your knee. You stroked my hair and told me to leave the tooth under my pillow for the tooth fairy. I did, that evening, even though I'd known for a long time that fairies and angels didn't exist. I trusted you though. Big mistake. The next morning I checked under my pillow with a sense of excitement. The tooth was still there. Unwanted and forgotten. Just like me. The kid my mum never wanted. I guess you didn't want me either.

Maybe you think it unfair that I blame you for it all, Johnny. And maybe it is. But if you had lived the life I have, you'd be pretty angry too.

It could have all been so different. I could have been so different.

If you hadn't stood by.

If you hadn't looked the other way.

If you'd claimed me as your own.

I could have been yours. I could have been your little girl. I could have made you proud.

But you never wanted me, you never wanted to know me.

Ditto.

Johnny, I hardly knew ya.

...

 _Why'd you have to wait?_  
 _Where were you? Where were you?_  
 _Just a little late,_  
 _You found me, you found me._


End file.
